


Sight

by inkstainedwretch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sensory Deprivation, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstainedwretch/pseuds/inkstainedwretch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't make much sense that in these moments, when he's blind to the world, he can see more clearly than ever what Sam is doing to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sight

Hindsight isn't really the first thing that comes to mind when one thinks of a prophet, but Kevin's is crystal clear. He can say with complete and utter certainty that this is all because of Sam's hands. There wasn't anything particularly special about the afternoon when Sam clapped him on the shoulder and grinned at him, saying some word of thanks or another, but all Kevin remembers about that whole day is the fact that Sam's hand covered his entire shoulder and then some.

It sort of just got worse from that point on, but the real turning point was the day they were being chased by...fuck, he doesn't remember, something, and Sam honest to god hauled him to one side and shoved him up against a wall while he decapitated the whatever-it-was. When he'd stopped fearing for his life, it finally dawned on him that he was _way_ too comfortable for someone who'd just been shoved none too gently between a brick wall and another brick wall cleverly disguised as Sam Winchester. He didn't even see the thing die because of the huge flannel shield standing between him and certain death. 

It took another couple of weeks for him to acknowledge that yeah, getting manhandled by Sam wasn't unpleasant in the slightest, and it took Sam a good damn while to figure out that he genuinely meant that. Since then, however, they've come to a pretty damn awesome agreement. 

Then one evening, Sam asked if he wanted to get _creative_ , and that's how he got here, sitting on the edge of the bed, stark naked but for a blindfold and a set of headphones. It's a trick Sam learned a long time ago, or so he said. The headphones, though, are new. Last time, they were earplugs, but they let him hear just enough to know where Sam was coming from. He's starting to wonder whether he should've said that, because the headphones, hooked up to the tiny ipod strapped to his arm, playing a constant loop of white noise, are almost dizzying in their isolation. He still has his hands, but they're clinging to the sheets for dear life, or else he'll be lost in a void of hissing darkness. It's terrifying and exilharating all at once, but then again, that's sort of just his life, isn't it?

Out of nowhere, Sam's hand is on his leg, and he nearly jumps up off the bed from the shock, but Sam holds him down. It's just the one hand, unmoving and unyielding, but he can feel everything, from the slight scratch of his skin to the way his fingertips are just a little bit cold. It doesn't make much sense that in these moments, when he's blind to the world, he can see more clearly than ever what Sam is doing to him. 

Unthinkingly, he reaches for Sam's hand, and sure enough Sam moves away. Even though he can't hear anything, he's sure Sam is laughing. They've done this enough times for him to know by now that isn't how it works. He's left squirming for a moment—not for long, Sam knows better than that—and then a cool fingertip ghosts its way over the back of his neck. It's almost worse than nothing, such a damn tease that he'd love to reach out and grab him, but he doesn't want to be left alone, again. He tilts his head back and lets out a very undignified whine, and the next thing he feels is a gentle whoosh of breath right where Sam's finger just was. This time he does jump, shivering from head to toe, and when Sam licks a long stripe over the side of his shoulder, he twists violently. Whether it's towards him or away, he isn't sure, but it hardly matters, since a shove against his shoulder sends him toppling gracelessly onto his back. He scrambles for purchase until he feels two warm, steady hands take hold of his sides and drag him up the bed, and the slide of fabric against his back really shouldn't be as hot as it is. 

There's a rush of softness against his chest now, and it hits him that Sam _still has his shirt on_ and the textures against his skin are about to overload him. It's too much for him to handle, and he reaches up blindly to try and get it off somehow, but Sam takes his wrists and pins them down. A small kiss against his jaw, and then he feels the air above him move, gentle brushes of fabric make him twitch and jump, and the next thing he feels is a broad expanse of skin, nearly smothering him with heat. Sam kisses his mouth gently, slides his whole body against Kevin and lets him wrap his arms around him. 

It doesn't last. Really, it could've gone on like that for hours; Kevin's never good at keeping track of time when he's locked out of the world like this. Still, it doesn't last as long as he'd like, because after a while Sam moves away, moves back, and Kevin squirms and tries to sit up and reach for him, for all he knows it won't do him any good. 

Sam's hand covers nearly half of his chest as he pushes him back down, and before Kevin even has time to wonder what's going to happen next, he feels Sam's breath, hot and painfully insubstantial, on his cock. He actually _keens_ from the unfairness of it, arching his hips up off the bed but keeping his hands to himself, knowing it'll accomplish nothing if he makes Sam draw it out even longer. He feels Sam's breath again, and he's expecting the tongue that accompanies it. What he's not expecting is the slick, prodding fingertip below. 

He lowers his hips back down and lets out a slow, shuddering breath, because he knows damn well what comes next, and he's not in the mood to waste time getting there. It's been a while since they did this. Hell, it's been a while since they had time, but it makes it feel that much better when Sam slides his finger in, curling it just a little. His mouth disappears, and Kevin can't feel anything but the sheets underneath him, Sam's finger— _fingers_ inside of him, and the way his whole body is shaking like mad. 

He lets himself get a little lost in it, the addictive back-and-forth of Sam's hand driving him crazy, until the mattress shifts, Sam getting up again with no care for whether or not Kevin knows it. The fingers leave, and Kevin is actually shivering in anticipation for— _yes, fuck yes, there it is_. He might say that; he isn't sure. He's completely overloaded with the feeling of Sam's cock sliding into him, infuriatingly slowly, and then he feels a hand grab onto his hip. It's the closest to _get ready_ he's going to get. 

He thinks he grins. 

Sam pushes him even further up the mattress and fucks him like he means it, pressing down against Kevin so he can feel his whole body on top of him. Kevin reaches up and grabs hold of what feels like Sam's shoulder, and he's got to be making an awful lot of noise, with the words running through his head. _Fuck, Sam, that's it, harder, **harder** —_

He knows he actually says the last word, not just because it comes back to his ears in a weird muffled way, but because Sam stops, moves back, and then drives into him, agonizingly slow but with a force that leaves him gasping. Kevin digs his nails into Sam's skin and just about screams, and behind him he can feel some weird jolt...that must be the headboard. 

He curls in on himself and whispers _please, please please please_ , and then he feels Sam's hand on his cock, nearly holding it all at once (he thought for a second the first time around that it should probably be embarrassing but it's really, _really_ not), and he starts to move faster inside him again and that's it, that is fucking it. His eyes clench tight and he comes with a shout he can hear all the way through the white noise. After a long and glorious moment, he falls backwards into a whirlwind of overstimulation until he feels Sam fall over and join him. They separate, but Sam stays close, keeping an arm around him until they catch their breath.

Sam's hand slides slowly up his face and takes the left headphone out gently, then the right. The blindfold comes off next, and even though nearly all the lights are off, it feels way too bright. He blinks the world into focus and then turns to look at Sam, smiling like an idiot. 

Sam raises his eyebrows hopefully. "Good idea?"

He shakes his head and laughs. "Best idea."

**Author's Note:**

> Pick whoever you like for the person who showed Sam the perks of sensory deprivation. :D


End file.
